


night in the city

by orphan_account



Category: Fleetwood Mac (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: hh well this one took me way too long to write but i rather like it. btw even the unnamed characters are in fact real people so go ahead and try to guess jskdfs.
Relationships: Christine McVie/Stevie Nicks
Kudos: 2





	night in the city

**Author's Note:**

> hh well this one took me way too long to write but i rather like it. btw even the unnamed characters are in fact real people so go ahead and try to guess jskdfs.

In a Bleecker Street cafe…

The light filtered in through large glass windows, letting the sunbeams illuminate the polished wood tabletop. Stevie tapped her fingers impatiently, and a frown came across her brow. He should’ve been there five minutes ago, and there was no reason for him to be late. No traffic, no extreme weather, no changes of plan. Once again, she glanced towards the door. Nothing. If he didn’t come in the next five minutes, she was leaving, she told herself. No more letting herself get walked over by men. And after all, they were visiting New York to be together. Not to be apart.  
Those five minutes went by slowly, in an agony of looking and waiting and hoping. Stevie was praying he’d come in, tell her he was sorry he was late, and carry on like normal. Yet somehow she knew it wouldn’t happen. But maybe-  
Sighing, she resigned herself to even more waiting. She put her head down on the table, squinting as the late afternoon sun shone into her eyes. It had been a long day, and the exhaustion was finally catching up with her. The loud clinking of dishes became a background noise, and the sound of people talking slowly lulled her to sleep.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

Chris strolled down the sidewalk, enjoying the warmth of the day. Although it was November, it wasn’t cold at all, which was a pleasant surprise for New York. She had spent the morning wandering around Greenwich Village, and was planning on going straight back to her hotel, but a little coffee house at the street corner caught her eye. It was rather full, but it looked like a cozy place to spend a few minutes. Hoping she wouldn’t regret the decision, she hurried in.   
Inside the cafe, it was quite pleasant. The wood floors and tables shone in the sunlight, and a small stage in the corner suggested that there would be live music later. Chris looked around, noticing the art hanging on the panelled walls. A detail in one of the paintings caught her eye, and she headed over to look at it, but stopped halfway there. There was a woman slumped over one of the smaller tables, and she was perfectly still. Considering the rather artistic population of Greenwich Village, it was entirely possible that she had overdosed, or was drunk, or was simply tired from playing music all night. No matter which it was, though, she felt that it would only be right to check on her.   
Chris leaned down and tapped softly on the woman’s shoulder.  
“Hello? You alright, love?”  
With a start, she awoke.  
“Y- yes I am. Uh who are you? What’s going on?”  
Now that she was no longer asleep, Chris could see that the other was really quite pretty. Her long blonde hair fell in front of her eyes a bit, and her blouse was rumpled from the impromptu nap, but it all added to a sort of charm.   
Reminding herself not to get distracted, Chris said, “Nothing’s the matter, I only wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you?”  
“Yes, I guess. I mean I could be better, y’know, but I’m fine. Got stood up and all, it’s alright though. Much better to move on.” Despite her words, Stevie’s voice was slightly shaky.  
“I know you don’t know me, but if you’d like we could talk about it a bit. Could make you feel better, though it’s all up to you of course.”  
“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” Stevie replied.  
“Alright, I’ll be right back. D’you want me to get something for you, food or coffee or just anything?” Chris didn’t really have much money left to spend, but that was hardly her biggest concern at the time. Despite not knowing the other woman very well, or really, at all, she felt an odd sense of kinship with her.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

After getting her coffee Chris went back to the corner table, and took a seat next to the other woman. As she pulled out the chair it scraped across the floor, and she winced slightly.   
By that time, the autumn sun was going down, and its last rays turned everything into spun gold. Shining people in a shining city, with room for old sadness and new love all at once.   
“It’s so beautiful,” Stevie remarked. “New York is supposed to be this dirty, busy city, but it has so much wonder just hidden in it. Anyway, who are you, and where are you from?”  
“I’m Christine, but you can call me Chris. I’m from England, I only came here to visit. And you?”  
“My name is Stevie. Stevie Nicks. And uh, I came here to visit too, with my-” There, she stopped. “Well, I don’t know what he is now. Boyfriend I guess, but I haven’t seen too much of him lately.”  
“Is that who you were waiting for?” Chris asked, trying to keep her tone gentle rather than nosy.  
“Yeah. He told me he’d show up, but that was almost an hour ago. I don’t know where he went or if he just forgot. And I don’t even know where to go, because he’s the one who arranged the hotel and he was going to take me from here.” Stevie felt her throat clench, and she knew the tears would be coming soon. Desperately, she tried to swallow down the sadness.  
Tentatively, Christine placed a light hand on Stevie’s back.  
“It’s alright to cry, love. Fighting it won’t help,” she said softly.   
“I know but- not here. There are so many people, what would they think of me? Besides, I can’t just hang around this coffee shop all day.”  
“Well,” Chris said, “I suppose we could go to my hotel. Would your man be mad?”  
“No, I think it’s alright. Or I mean, I guess he might be, but it’s worth it.” Stevie said glumly.  
Chris nodded. “Then shall we go?”  
She stood up and stuck out her hand. Stevie looked at it for a second, pausing, and then reached out to take it. Together, they walked out of the coffee house, and down the grimy streets.   
They strolled hand in hand towards Chris’ hotel in comfortable silence, watching the city around them. Now that it was dark out, Greenwich Village was coming alive. The people were out of their tiny apartments and on the New York streets, whether playing music or going to shows or simply soaking it all up.  
Stevie shivered slightly. With the setting of the sun, the temperature had dropped, and she was wearing only a light dress and a flimsy shawl. Almost unconsciously, Christine moved closer to her, and tightened her grip on Stevie’s hand. 

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇ 

After fifteen or so minutes of walking, the two women reached their destination. The hotel was somewhat shabby, and on the older side, but it was good enough anyway. Inside the small lobby, lit by only one dim lamp, there was a desk attended by a lone sleeping clerk. Chris walked past him briskly, Stevie trailing a few steps behind, and headed up the worn wooden staircase. Her room was on the second story of the tall building, down a dimly light hallway.   
Chris paused in front of the door, fumbling around in her jeans pocket for the key. Eventually, she pulled it out, unlocked the door, and stepped into the little hotel room. It had only one bed and a desk with a rickety wooden chair, but that would have to do.   
“You can have the bed,” Chris told Stevie. “I’ll sleep on the floor. I’ve done it plenty of times already, one more won’t hurt in the least. Oh, and the bathroom is just down the hall, so you can go wash up while I tidy things in here.”  
“No, really, it’s fine. You can have the bed, I’ll take the floor instead. This is your room, y’know, not mine.”  
“Please, I’ll survive a night. Just humour me this once, alright?”  
“I’m going to go take off my makeup, wash my face, all that. I’ll keep arguing with you when I get back, though.” Stevie laughed. She left the room in a swirl of fabric and perfume, taking with her a sense of lightness.  
Now that Stevie was gone, Chris once again remembered her own worries. Her husband John, and the rest of Fleetwood Mac, was meant to have arrived earlier in the day, but something must have happened while they were in transit. It was probably just a delay with the plane, or some sort of hotel mix-up, but what if? The amount of horrible possibilities overwhelmed Chris’ thoughts, and she began pacing around the tiny room. One lap… two… three… she was getting a bit dizzy… four… five… six… she nearly ran into the desk corner... seven… eight… her head was spinning and she felt oddly disoriented… nine… ten…  
Tired, Christine flopped onto the bed. She was still laying there, staring up at the spiderweb cracks in the plaster ceiling, when Stevie came back into the room. She perched on the edge of the bed, next to Chris, and sighed.  
“Tiring day for both of us, huh?”   
Christine could only nod her agreement, and she shifted a little to her left to make room for Stevie.  
“I suppose I should be moving just about now… I did say you could have the bed.” Despite her words, she stayed exactly where she was. “But, you know, I’m so-“  
“It’s fine, it’s fine. There’s enough room for both of us. You just get up real quick so I can straighten out the blankets.”  
Slightly dazed, Christine did as Stevie told her. As the smaller blonde fussed with pillows and rearranged the thin bedcovers, Chris stared out the grimy window at the New York streets below her. There was yet another coffee house right across the street, and light spilled out its doorway, accompanied by the faint sound of people laughing and talking. It seemed like a nice place to be.  
A few minutes later, Stevie had arranged everything to her satisfaction, and she gestured towards Christine. Wordlessly, she climbed into the bed next to Stevie, not caring about the closeness of the action. Slowly, she drifted off, listening to the sound of the other woman’s steady breathing and the quiet music drifting up from the streets. 

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇ 

Stevie awoke gradually, at first only aware of deep silence and a new coldness. As she faded into consciousness, she noticed that Chris was gone from beside her, and the door was ajar. On light feet, she padded out of bed and down the hallway, wondering if Christine had only gone to use the bathroom. Yet it was empty. Something drew Stevie down the stairs and out of the hotel. She had no idea why, but it felt like the right thing to do, and the only thing to do.   
Once she was outside, she paused. Everything was dark except the coffee house across the street, but she had no idea why Chris would go there. On the other hand, any idea was better than none… Quickly, not bothering to check for passing cars, she strode over towards the small cafe and pushed open the door.   
Inside, it was cramped but cozy, and seemingly empty, yet Stevie heard faint music coming from somewhere. She headed towards the back of the room, following the sound, and noticed a doorway that was nearly hidden behind a gauzy curtain. Shifting it aside, she stepped through, and nearly fell. It led to a flight of stairs, presumably to go to a basement or hidden second level. Slowly, quietly, she descended the staircase.  
When she reached the bottom, she gasped. Yes, Chris was there, and Stevie was relieved, but it was nothing compared to the other woman in the room. She was on a tiny little raised platform, and she stood bent over a guitar, long blonde hair obscuring her face. A single light shone on her from above, presumably to call attention to her, yet there was no need for that. The singer had an achingly beautiful voice, and it filled the room, holding everyone under her spell.   
Not wanting to disturb the sense of magic, Stevie moved towards Chris as quietly as she could. She sat on a chair besides her, and Chris nodded as a means of greeting, but neither of them could take their attention off of the lone woman on stage. Her voice blended perfectly with the sounds of her guitar, and as the song came to an end, it felt like the beginning of a new life. For a second, everything was entirely silent, until the small audience applauded their approval. The singer seemed to relax slightly, and said, “Thank you, I’ll be right back. I’ve just gotta take a bit of a break, y’know, but I’m not going anywhere.” She laughed quietly, and with a little smile and nod of her head, she vanished into some sort of tiny back room.  
Now that the performance was over for the time being, Stevie turned towards Chris.   
“How did you end up here?”  
“I woke up in the middle of the night, ‘cause I don’t usually go to bed that early, and I’d seen this coffee house before, so I went to look. And then I ended up here, and I thought oh, I’ll stay for one song, but I never ended up leaving.” Chris grinned, rather sheepishly, but Stevie understood the feeling that had kept her there. They sat in silence for a few minutes, and as the singer came back onto the tiny makeshift stage, Stevie rested her head on Chris’ shoulder.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

For the next few songs, time seemed to slip away entirely. Each was amazing in its own way, whether so sad that its beauty hurt, or merely pretty and wistful and happy all at once. Before anyone in the audience realised, it was time for the set to end.  
“I’ve just got one more for all of you. It’s about, y’know, losing someone and finding someone all at once.” With that cryptic description, the woman on stage began her song. It started quiet, then her voice rose into a powerful swelling crescendo, only to fall back to a reflective murmur. The lyrics seemed to convey a wisdom well beyond the years of anyone in the room, and it all combined to create a beautiful, spellbinding feeling. Yet like any song, it had to end. The last note went on impossibly long, so long that Stevie was sure its singer had some sort of magic in her voice. As it came to its resolution, Stevie leaned into Chris even more, and clung to its echo. Neither of them moved until the audience clapped and broke the timeless feeling, everyone getting to their feet and applauding and gathering belongings and hurrying back up the narrow stairway.   
Stevie and Chris were the last to leave. Together, they ascended the stairway, crossed the street, and headed back up to their small hotel room.   
“Who was she, that woman playing at the coffee house? It didn’t say anywhere and she never told us who she was, at least not when I was there.” Stevie inquired.  
“I don’t know,” Chris said with a laugh, “I don’t think she ever mentioned her name. Real shame, ‘cause she was so talented. Just mind-blowing, really.”  
“Really,” Stevie replied, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything like that before. Anyway, don’t you think we should go back to sleep? It’s getting late.”  
“Definitely,” Chris agreed. She got into the bed, Stevie beside her, and they lay there, comfortable in the night.  
As Chris fell asleep, the events of the day ran through her head, and she smiled broadly. 

…I found someone to love today.


End file.
